Adriel [Completed]

Chapter Two

In which Adriel explores her new home.

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I felt considerably better after I'd decorated my new room just the way I liked it. It was the one nearest the enclosed balcony, and it had a great view of the barrio down the hill. Mom, or somebody, had already put a flower-patterned rug on the shiny dark wooden floor, and hung up curtains in my favorite shades of melon and coral, so I just made my bed with the matching bedsheets and pillowcases that Mom gave me and arranged my things. As I was tacking up my collection of hard-to-find posters of my all-time favorite guys, Dad and Allain staggered in with my stereo component set and stand fan and plugged them both in. Ian looked in next and handed me my laptop, which I set up on the table by the window.

Things were getting quite OK, but I missed the city. Everything was much too quiet, even after I had turned on my stereo. The FM tuner was still tuned to - and faintly picking up - my favorite radio station. It made me feel absolutely homesick, so I switched to CD and filled the room with the sounds of Boyzone instead.

My window had huge shutters paned with thin pearly capiz shells, like those windows in old houses in the romantic movies. I went to it and looked outside. I could see part of the downhill path, and halfway down the hill another house, a small shack bright with flowers. I could make out its back door, most of its back yard, and a portion of vegetable garden beside the bamboo fence. As I watched, a small figure came out into the yard - a girl, slim and small, with long black hair flowing almost to her waist over the faded blue duster she wore. She began to winnow a basket of rice, the wide grains flying into the air and falling back into the flat bamboo-weave container with a soft crashing sound I thought I could faintly hear. I found myself thinking: if Ian saw this picture, what would he call it? Barrio Lass?

“Sis?” That was what Allain usually called me - he said it was more appropriate than “Love.” I turned to see him standing in the doorway.

“You wanna eat? Mom has croissants and iced tea waiting in the sala.”

I glanced once more at the distant girl, then followed Allain downstairs.

That first night, I slept soundly although as a rule I don't sleep well on my first night in a strange place. I guess I must've been really exhausted, for it was already ten o'clock when I woke up the next morning. Even then, it took me a few minutes to re-orient myself and recall where I was. Then I heard strange voices downstairs and realized we had guests. I whisked through my bed making then took a quick bath in the upstairs bathroom, thanking heaven Dad had gotten us a motorized water pump.

When I finally came downstairs and into the sala, Mom and Dad were talking to a man and a woman. Mom saw me and beckoned.

“And this is our only daughter, Ian's twin, Lovelove,” she said. “Love, these are your Aunt Susan and Uncle Steve, and your cousin Myra.” For the first time I noticed the girl sitting beside the window.

Myra was about my age, tall and slender with straight pageboy black hair and the kind of face that the writers must be thinking about when they say that a girl has a “pixie face.” She wore blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt, rubber flip-flops, and a peculiar expression when she looked at me, as though she didn't quite know what to make of what she saw. I wore a pink spaghetti-strap blouse with white denim shorts and my fluffy pink bedroom slippers, and I belatedly remembered that I had picked up Bubblegum on my way downstairs and was now clutching her like a security blanket. Sixteen going on six! Not good!

“Hi,” Myra said at last, politely. “Is Lovelove your real name?”

At last. A “hi.” Civilization!